


camisado

by iwouldcurseworldsforyou



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, no one else is allowed to hurt them anymore, no one is fucking dying on my watch, this is my show now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-11 16:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7059751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwouldcurseworldsforyou/pseuds/iwouldcurseworldsforyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'll take the hospital, you two head--"</p><p>"No."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. this was no accident

**Author's Note:**

> look, that episode was bullshit. this is my small way of trying to make it better. i hope you enjoy.

"I'll take the hospital, you two head--"

"No."

The force in her own voice surprises them. It surprises herself, if she feels like being honest.

"Shaw?” John murmurs.

"I'll head to the hospital, get her patched up and back to the subway. There's no way of knowing how long one of her cover ids will hold up."

John nods. "Then Fusco and I will grab Finch. We'll meet you back in a few hours."

Shaw's already spinning around, marching towards one of the many abandoned cars. She punches through a window, unlocks the car, and is working on the wires when she feels a shadow looming over her.

"She's gonna be fine, Shaw."

She rolls her eyes, turns her attention back to the wires, "I know you weren't a doctor, Reese, but even _you_ have to know what critical condition means."

"I know that she's walked off a lot worse. A little gunshot wound isn't going to hold her down long."

Shaw breathes in, tries to steady her hands.

"Banana Nut Crunch is made of tough stuff", Fusco chimes in “She'll be alright, kid."

The engine roars to life.

"Move before I run you assholes over. Don't you have a boyfriend to save, John?" she taunts, a smirk just playing across her mouth.

John and Fusco obediently retreat to the sidewalk. "Go grab your girl and bring her home."

John sees the retort form and die on her tongue. She gives him a sharp nod instead, and tears down the street faster than he can blink.

 

\---

 

Shaw hasn't been inside a real hospital in a long time. She had forgotten the chaos, the cacophony of beeping and loud voices.

She's not surprised that she doesn't miss it one bit.

Her eyes scan the room, looking for a blue uniform to indicate where her favorite criminal is probably cuffed to a bed. Root never was the best at picking her way out of handcuffs. It's one of the shortcomings Shaw had always appreciated about her.

Shaw sighed irritably. Her gut reaction told her to just shoot someone to draw the guard's attention. A nice leg wound. Showy. Lots of arterial spray. It would buy her more than enough time to slip in and get the hell out of here.

But a voice that sounded annoying like Finch told her be more discreet. Root probably wasn't in any condition to run, hell she might not even be conscious. Shooting someone would still inevitably bring the pressure right back to her and to her potential dead weight.

She raised her hand to the bridge of her nose. This was just not her week.

"Can I help you ma'am?"

Shaw controlled her smirk. A nurse. Bright, eager to help, and as naive as Root was annoying.

She could work with this.

Fifteen minutes later, now clad in bubblegum pink scrubs, she waltzed through the door to Root's room with no problem.

She picked up her chart in a fluid, practiced motion. Jane Doe. Mid-thirties. Gunshot wounds to both her right side and right shoulder. The shoulder had been clean, through and through. But the wound in her side would be a bitch and a half. "I'm surprised you can still fire a gun, with number of times you've been hit there."

She traced Root's face with her eyes. Watched her eyelids flutter.

"How much metal is still lodged in there, do you think? How do you get through airport security?" she continued, twirling her pen absently.

She moved from the foot of the bed, let her hand trail up the bed as she stepped closer to the injured woman's side. She glanced at the monitors briefly.

"Stop playing possum, sleeping beauty. I know you're awake."

"Maybe I was hoping you'd kiss me awake, Sameen."

"Never pegged you for a romantic, Root."

She laughed, and then winced, shifting in the hospital bed. "Oh Sam, you know me. I'd never miss a chance to kiss--" she froze, hands clenching.

"Remember that talk we had earlier, the one about _timing_? Let's get you out of here first. Finch got himself into more trouble. We're meeting the boys back at the subway to figure out our next move."

Shaw watched Root try to sit up and fail. "Easy there, don't rip your stitches before we even get out of the hospital."

Root tilted her head. "And how exactly did you plan on getting us out of here. Were you just going to wheel me out the front door? We're good Sam, but we're not _that_ good."

She felt the tips of her ears grow hot. "I didn't have a lot of time on the drive over to really _think_ , Root."

"Oh Sameen", she cooed, "were you worried about me?"

"Worried your idiocy would compromise our entire operation, maybe", she huffed.

An indulgent grin crept into Root's face.

"I hate it when you look at me like that."

"Like what, Sam?"

Shaw squirmed a little. "All sappy and gross and stuff. Time and place, Root. Jesus."

She shook herself and glanced around. "We're wasting time. We need to figure out a way to get you out of here. Can you walk?"

"Not well enough to pass as a normal, law abiding, gunshot free citizen", Root said with a cheeky smile.

Shaw rolled her eyes, "And I'm guessing you don't have a few pistols stashed in your bra?"

"Not this time, sweetie. Local law enforcement was surprisingly thorough. Even got the knife I keep on my thigh."

"Those fuckers. I really liked that knife.” Shaw growled.

Root gave her that soft but still totally gross look again. "I know Sameen. You gave it to me. It's one of my favorites."

Shaw chose to ignore that comment and began to pace. "So no guns, except my pistol. You can't walk. No back up. This day just keeps getting better and better."

"At least we have each other, Sam."

Shaw spun around, ready to snark, and faltered as she met Root's watery attempt at a smile. She exhaled heavily instead. “Does your other girlfriend have any bright ideas?”

Root’s eyes went glassy for a moment before replying, “Yes. But you’re not going to like it.”


	2. small anouncement!

sorry guys, this isn't an update.

unfortunately, i'm not going to be continuing this story on ao3.

why, you may ask?

some of you guys might not know this, but i co run a blog (poi-au.tumblr.com). in addition to writing fluffy little fics for poi, we're also working on creating a rewrite for person of interest after 510. root doesn't die, everyone's ships are more prominent, the writing is better, and we've brought back a few characters in a really cool way! this fic sort of became part of our first episode, and we went from there. it didn't make sense to continue this fic after that; i didn't see any point in rewriting our script into paragraph format.

tldr: check out our new canon series at poi-au.tumblr.com! the fist two episodes are up right now!

**Author's Note:**

> yes, the title is from a panic at the disco song. i'm trash. but it's kinda my jam for this fic. give it a listen.


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